Stage Fright
by foreverszpilfeld
Summary: It is a new piece that Szpilman is playing, and nothing could suit him more than a little bit of courage.


The lights flickered upon the stage, and soon the theatre seats were fulfilled with hundreds of people. The satin curtains hid the shaking pianist, and there were sheer voices coming from behind the fabric walls. Szpilman, the man who was about to appear on stage, shook before the hard floor.

"I don't know what's wrong with me! I've never been this nervous before! There's no reason I should be acting like this. I've never had this feeling before I go on!"

"Calm down, you'll be fine. Just play the piece, do it right and get it over with if it's that bad."

"But it's a new piece, Wilm, and I have people who are similar to judges attending tonight! One little slip up could ruin the chance of having it broadcasted at the station. I-I'm not so sure I'm up for this," Szpilman spattered. He closed the curtain after he glanced at the crowd and turned around. "Maybe we should just go back home"-

" _No_ ," the former captain exclaimed as he grabbed Wladek's shoulder. "If you think I'm going to let you walk out on this, you are wrong. You can't just leave because you don't think you can do it! Where is the honor in that – tell me."

Szpilman looked up into his ocean eyes. He was right. How could he leave just before a performance when there were hundreds of people out there waiting for him? _But…there are judges. So many judges. How can I pull this off this time?_ he thought.

"But I don't know if I can…" There were other people looking at the two, and even one of the crew members was whispering to another supposedly about them. The German narrowed his eyes at him and pulled Wladek away from the people into a small hallway. At least there it'd be silent.

"Look, even though that this hasn't happened to you in a long time, I understand that you're scared. There are many people out there that want to listen to you, and that's a lot of attention for an individual. However, courage is something that every man struggles with, and it is their responsibility to summon as much of it as they can in order to prove themselves. You mustn't think too hard on this. You've been playing for so many years that when you play, it's like second nature." Because of his height, Hosenfeld had to look down at Szpilman, and tilted his chin up with his hand in order for them to meet each other's gazes.

"You've played a song for me," he murmured, "now why not play another? I'll be down there listening. Don't think about the audience – just me. Doesn't that give you at least a little bit of courage?"

Szpilman gulped, and it suddenly the walls seemed as though they crowded closer to the two of them.

"S-sometimes…"

Hosenfeld smiled.

"You will be fine," he finished. He took out a handkerchief, wiped Szpilman's brow, and placed a light peck on his nose. "Now go."

Although it was a gentle touch, at that moment Wladek felt a surge of bravery course through him. He began to slowly tread towards the stage, ready to take the challenge of not only providing music for the public once again, but to face the judges. Wilhelm made his way down the hallway, around the corner and into the isles of the theatre to take his seat in the front row. There was a red velvet seat reserved for him, which was provided by Szpilman himself. A young girl – he guessed was near the age of eight – looked up at him and shook the sleeve of his shirt.

"Hey, mister, is that your boy?"

"Elise!" a quiet, yet stern voice exclaimed. A woman appeared and pulled the child away from him. "I'm very sorry, sir," she apologized to him. The two left with one scolding the other about how to not talk to strangers. Hosenfeld just smirked as he took his seat and glanced up at the stage. Szpilman was now appearing and taking his seat at the piano bench. Wilm laughed inside his head.

 _Yes, that's my boy._

* * *

He was nervous before stepping out, as any performer would be, but when he saw his captain sitting in his seat and gazing up at him, the rest of the audience fell away like dust. It was as if he was back in the same room that the two of them met, with one sitting in an old chair and the other playing on the piano.

 _Just like old times,_ Szpilman laughed inside his head. True, it only happened half a decade ago, but between the past and the present, many things had occurred. With Szpilman being an orphan the age of an adult, Wilm was happy to share his home with him as a shelter. Until he could get back on his feet again, he was provided with food, clothes, and everything else that a jobless man needed. He soon picked it back up again when the Polish radio station was rebuilt, and since most of Germany had been a wasteland, the two eventually moved back into Poland where Szpilman would be closer to his work. Hosenfeld picked up a new job once they settled once more, and they've been living together ever since.

The piano keys twisted the notes into a melodious harmony, and it filled the atmosphere with energy, pulse, and relaxation. It was a time where everyone could forget all that had happened for just a few minutes, for when Szpilman was playing, there was no need to think about the war. The music served as a wonderful distraction, and of course, Wilm was completely mesmerized by it. If someone were to snap their fingers up to his ears, he wouldn't have heard them because of how captivated he was. He felt a sudden wall of pride knock him down when Szpilman began playing with full confidence.

There were many great musicians out there that were extraordinary. However, this one was his.


End file.
